TEXTS WITH THE SLYTHERIN BOYS except you're exes and they miss you
Characters included (in order) :
• Lorenzo Berkshire (1)
• Blaise Zabini (1)
• Mattheo Riddle (1)
• Theodore Nott (1)
• Draco Malfoy (1)
• Tom Riddle (ooc) (1)
Author's note : the tom riddle one took me a whole day to think about, i redid it like 4 times lmao bc he just wouldnt text first nor would he miss you at that so yes, sorry if its cringe
JUST REALIZED I WROTE "Is it?" Instead of "Am i?" For Tom!! I was just editing the messages and i didnt pay attention
Your boyfriend was so easy it was almost embarrassing, though never for him. Mattheo owned it completely. One look from you and his eyelids went heavy, dark lashes lowering as his tongue dragged slow across his lower lip, already tasting you in his mind.
Tonight, all you’d done was kick off your pants to change into pajama shorts. No show, no deliberate tease, just getting ready for bed. But the way Mattheo watched you, it might as well have been a private striptease. The brief flash of your pretty pink underwear, the soft give of your thighs as the fabric slid down, the bare stretch of your legs—he hadn’t looked away since. Pupils blown wide and black with hunger, chest rising a little too fast, he sat there silently begging. He’d wanted you allllll day. Though, that was every day. And right now the need was sitting heavy between his legs, thick and obvious against the front of his sweats, waiting for you to finally put him out of his misery.
“Do you need something, Mattheo?”
You were playing oblivious, the way you always did. Hair pushed back with a headband, you scrubbed the last of the day’s makeup from your face. Fresh moisturizer left your skin soft and glowing; your lips looked fuller, a little redder from the scrub you’d put on. He stared at the ceiling of your shared bedroom like it might save him, breath coming short and shallow as he swallowed hard around nothing.
“Mhmmm.” The sound dragged out of him, low and needy, the second you bent to grab your hairbrush. Those tiny shorts barely covered anything. The fabric rode up, giving him a perfect, shameless view of the soft curve of your ass, the way the thin cotton clung to the seam between your cheeks.
“Hm. Then ask for it.” Another soft, broken whine left him. Big brown eyes locked on you, dark and pleading, while you slowly dragged the brush through your hair and didn’t even glance his way.
“Need you,” he managed, voice rough. “P-please. Need to touch you– need to be inside you.”
Usually you’d drag it out. Make him beg until his voice cracked and broke, until big fat tears slipped from the corners of those pretty brown eyes and his thighs trembled with how long he’d been asking so nicely.
But tonight you were just as starved. Just as desperate to feel your pretty boyfriend buried deep inside you—thick and hot and twitching, those soft, breathy little whimpers spilling against your ear. You’d been thinking about it since the second you left for work this morning: the way he’d sound when you finally let him push in, the way he’d cling to you like he was drowning.
“Poor baby… just need to be inside me, hm?”
You were already crawling into his lap, stifling a soft giggle at the startled look that flashed across his face. Your hips settled over his, rolling slow and deliberate until his lashes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open on a broken little sound. The thick, hard line of him pressed right against your sticky folds through the thin cotton of your shorts, hot enough that you could feel every throb.
He nodded rapidly, desperate hands flying to your hips and gripping hard enough to bruise as he tried to grind you down faster. You clicked your tongue in soft disappointment. The quiet sound made his bottom lip wobble.
“No—please. I’ll be good, I swear, baby. I’ll be so good.” His voice was pure wrecked whining, completely at odds with the heavy, leaking cock straining against you. His fingers dug in tighter, like he was terrified you’d change your mind if he let go.
You hummed, taking pity on him anyways. Reaching between your bodies, you freed him from his sweatpants—thick and flushed and already dripping pre at the tip. You didn’t bother pulling your shorts all the way down. Just shoved the fabric to the side, lined the fat head of him up with your soaked entrance, and slowly, deliberately, pushed him inside.
The gasp that tore from his lips almost sounded pained, raw and punched-out, as his back arched hard off the sheets. A pretty, broken moan spilled right after it.
“Ah—fuck. Oh my—”
His eyes squeezed shut until you cupped his jaw and forced them open with firm pressure. You held his gaze the entire time you sank down, taking every thick inch until you were fully seated and your aching clit pressed against the dark scatter of hair at his base. The stretch burned in the best way, his cock hot and heavy inside you, pulsing hard enough that you could feel every throb.
You moaned low in your throat, hand sliding down to wrap loosely around his throat as you braced yourself.
“Feels s’good, Matty… feel how deep you are?”
You rolled your hips in a tight, filthy circle, grinding your clit against him. A shaky, high whimper answered you. Then you lifted all the way up until just the swollen head remained, stretching your entrance, before dropping back down hard and fast. The wet sound of it filled the room.
“Answer me, baby.”
“Yes—fuck, mnph yes—” His voice cracked, eyes glassy and locked on yours.
“Good boy.” His reaction to the praise was instant, his hips rolling upward almost on instinct.
“Go on then. Make me feel good. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
Oh, he was eager. Desperate to earn your praise, even more desperate to hear those pretty moans and feel you come apart all over him. He’d do anything you asked.
Without another word he gripped your hips hard and snapped his own up, burying himself deep in one brutal thrust. Then he did it again. And again. Fast, deep, relentless—until all you could do was take it. The thick stretch of him forced your mouth open on a continuous moan, the wet plap-plap-plap of your soaked cunt meeting his hips loud and filthy in the quiet room. Your juices smeared across his toned stomach with every thrust, shiny and dripping.
“Yes—ahh fuck—right there, so good for me, Matty—”
Your hand tightened around his throat. The next moan vibrated against your fingers, broken and high. His thrusts stayed messy and hurried, your walls fluttering and clinging around every thick inch as his balls slapped wetly against your ass. A rough thumb found your clit and rubbed tight, filthy circles until your thighs started shaking around him.
“Please come—please, I want it. Need it. Need to feel you.” His rough whiney voice breathed warm against your ear, scattering goosebumps across your overheated skin.
Who were you to deny him?
You couldn’t have stopped it even if you tried. Your cunt clamped down hard around him, pulsing and milking, and he was gone with you. Both of you coming in a messy, overlapping rush—his hips stuttering as he filled you, hot and thick, until it spilled out around the base of his cock and dripped down his balls. He kept moving through it, short desperate spasms, whimpering like he physically couldn’t stop.
He clung to you, shaking, pulling you closer until his sweaty forehead pressed to your chest. Open-mouthed, trembling kisses scattered across your collarbone, your neck, anywhere he could reach while the aftershocks still rolled through both of you. His softening cock throbbed weakly inside you, still twitching with every leftover pulse.
“Missed you today,” he whispered against your skin, lips finally finding yours in a soft, sweet kiss.
“I missed you too, pretty boy.”
With a sleepy, satisfied sigh, he pulled your head down to his chest and wrapped both arms around you, holding you like he never planned to let go. You could clean up later. Right now your big, strong boyfriend just wanted to keep you close—skin still sticky, his heart thudding steady under your ear, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room.
No one would ever imagine Mattheo Riddle, the murderous boy always so full of rage, said please so prettily. That he let you take such good care of him every night. That he melted into something soft and needy the second the door closed behind you.
Little did those people know there was a diamond ring sitting like a loaded gun in his dresser drawer, taunting him every time he lost his nerve.
ok hi same anon now giving u my thoughts CAR GUY IS SOOOO GOOD UR GENIUS im thinking works on cars but only knowing about them works so well too. i am also loving musician even if it feels just a little less believable (2 me) it just sounds so fun if u ever give us car guy draco u might just make a matching magnum opus
yeaaaa i love him
like cmonnn, he’s so fine???
draco who starts messing with muggle cars to piss his father off after the war.. until it turned into him owning garages full of half built sports cars, that he just likes to take apart again after he fixes them, spending his entire off day covered in grease and sweat, picking you up in a loud wrx he just fixed just to watch your eyes go wide when he pushes the gas all the way down. or maybe him not realizing how thirsty he is until your manicured fingers are pressed into his, your pretty hands a contrast to his dirty shirt as your shove a fruity drink at him, him standing up to pull you into him, ignoring your whines of protest as grease seeps into your blouse..
okay okay fine I’ll write it😩 i love a hard working man😋😋😋😋
